


You made a promise, didn’t you? ;)

by Royalrastafariannaynays



Series: McGee McGee [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Non-Penetrative Sex, Nook Eating, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vibrators, Xeno, uhhh, what am i forgetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royalrastafariannaynays/pseuds/Royalrastafariannaynays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Karkat get up to no good and have some fun. </p><p>Sequel to Karcrab, but can be read independently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You made a promise, didn’t you? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! so my morning-after oneshot hit 100 kudos, and I thought I would give a little bit of celebration for that! So here's a sequel, a couple months after the events of Karcrab, and Dave and Karkat are getting up to some experimentation! It was fun writing this and I hope you have fun reading it! Haha :^)

You’re sitting on the floor, in front of the television, when Dave lets himself into your apartment through the door you had left unlocked for him. It’s movie night, or rather Karkat-and-Dave-pretend-to-watch-a-movie-but-make-out-for-three-hours-instead night. You’re deciding between Tron: Legacy and Pirates of the Caribbean, looking at the two between your hands with the Xbox disc drive open on the entertainment center. 

Dave saunters over and taps Pirates with his left big toe, pink-socked, and you grumble for a second before cracking open the case and inserting the disc.

Occasionally you two actually watch the film, when the mood strikes and you both want to watch something serious. But ever since that night a few months ago you’ve been working up to more frequent heavy petting and like, mutual jerking off or frottage or something. You’ll take movie nights as an excuse to work on that. The unsaid agreement between the two of you is that if Dave doesn’t come over with a movie, and you are choosing between a few that you’ve seen a few times or have good soundtracks, you’ll not even talk about the pretense.

So, of course, before Elizabeth Swan is even getting her bodice ripped open, you and Dave have gotten to kissing. He once told you that he could kiss you for hours and hours, and he has before. He’s said the same thing about a few other… things… as well, and you’re tempted to get him to make good on more than just the making out.

But his body feels so right against yours right now, and even better when he starts pushing you to lay back on the pillow he shifts to wedge under your neck. You and he went shopping a few weeks ago for the right pillow: One that would look good on the couch and still help with neck support in a pinch. 

It was put to some extended use that day. He’d fingered you almost to death that night. Said something about it being incredibly sexy that you were planning on being on your back for him. You had smacked him for that but well. You ended up there anyway, you guess.

One of your legs moves from between his, and your knees frame his waist, feet flat on the cushions of the couch and one ankle hooked around the back of his knee.

The mouth on yours in insistent but gentle. Kissing feels really fucking weird but it gets lesser with the more you do it. You’re fortunate that Dave isn’t the kind of person who just sticks his tongue in your mouth and like, grossly swirls it around for awhile. Not hot. You aren’t sure if you just got lucky and Dave is a good kisser, or if your lack of experience allows no comparison.

Getting back on the road to this situation. His hips hitch against yours when you bite, and he makes a little scolding noise into your mouth. So you do it again, naturally, fangs dragging against the tip of his tongue and the inside of his lower lip. His body is moving on top of yours and it feels like you belong here. It’s weird. This is way fucking sentimental. There’s a lot of laughing and smiling and shit.

He pulls his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and moves to kissing at your neck. He begins up by the ear first, to make you shiver against his body and then down to your collarbone to bite, and then lick the oversensitive skin. It's all very technical, really. Someone’s breath hitches, maybe both of you, and your hips stutter up against his. His hips grind down into yours, along with a sigh that’s something like a groan but not all the way there. 

You can feel it getting kind of hot in the room, and your toes manage to grab the pink sock and slide it off his foot.

Dave stops kissing you abruptly, pushes himself up onto his elbows, then to sit on his heels between your legs. You make some kind of pitiful noise at the rush of slightly cooler air against your chest, and his absence.

“Okay, quit that,” he tries to begin, and you make a sharp scoffing noise.

“Don’t boss me around, Dave. It felt good to have you on me. I’m going to fucking complain. Deal with it.” You can almost imagine the sunglasses floating down to your face. You're pretty proud of that meme.

Dave makes some kind of exasperated sound, but laughs and looks up at the ceiling. His hands run across your knees, thumbs drawing circles on the inside.

“Okay smart ass,” he tries again. “Now I have to ask it bluntly.”

You know what he’s going to ask. Since that night where you tried and failed to let him penetrate you, the two of you have been going very slowly, slow enough for you to find your footing and get better at being used to the whole kissing thing and his body with yours and his hands on your skin.

“How have you been feeling since first time we tried?” He asks you, and you have to think about it.

“There’s no pressure, okay? I’m gonna stay with you every step no matter what. I just don’t want to get carried away,” he adds, clearly. You love it when he gets so sober like this, carefully choosing his words instead of the rambling mess that usually comes out of his mouth. He cares about you so much. You can tell he’s practiced that line, so that he can give you confidence in the truth of it.

You pull yourself up by his shoulders, kiss him on the chin. He’s much taller than you in this position, so the chin is all you can really reach. 

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” you admit. There is a small amount of disappointment in his eyes, to be expected. You turn your head, and catch a little glint of light from his shades on the table. “I wouldn’t care about… trying something, though.”

Dave looks intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

You manage to tell him somehow by whispering, and he turns the beetiest beet red you have never even seen on a beet. The darkest tomato. The lobster in the hot pot. He’s supposed to be the experienced one. Maybe it was just you saying it? You get over your embarrassment pretty quickly once you start cackling at his face.

“I broke you! I broke Dave Strider! It wasn’t even that kinky, oh my god.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, that’s just… ugh, dude, that’s hot. Yes Please, hot diggity dog yes please.” His hands are even warm on your pajama pants-clad knees, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fiery and full of almost dangerous intent. He leans over you and attacks your mouth with renewed vigor, pulling you up to your knees by your hips. Biting kisses litter your face, and eventually neck, as he turns you. You have to stand in order to allow him to get off his heels. He sits, letting his feet hang to the floor, sweat pants straining on his slowly growing erection. 

And you allow him to guide you back to sit on his left thigh, knees straddling one of his. 

_‘I want you to control me,’_ you had said. _‘I want you to ignore me a little,’_ you had said. _‘I can’t look at you, it’s too embarrassing,’_ you had said. _‘You should sit behind me,’_ you had said.

Dave is running his hands up your body, dragging his nails along the hem of your shirt as he drags it up your chest. Your hands find their home over the back of your head, sometimes running through his hair. Your shoulders are going to hurt in the morning, and you don’t care. It helps you fasten his face to your neck more easily, where you can tell he’s almost lazily sucking a mark into your skin. Jolts of pleasure shoot straight down from the point where his lips meet your skin.

Thankfully his hands are a lot busier, less lazy. Or not so thankfully. They’re going back down from your grub scars. He knows they’re not as sensitive as other trolls’ can be, since he’s had his talented fingers under your clothes before. His blunt human nails keep making the path from your waist to your chest, sometimes going to above your collar under your shirt and sometimes only as high as the lowest grub scar. The shirt comes off at some point. It's difficult to focus on how.

The fingers go lower, though. You have to suppress a whine when he lets his hands slip under the already low-seated waistband of your pants. A finger or two dips inside and he digs his fingers in barely before dragging you down on his thigh and nipping your shoulder again. One of your horns catches his forehead when you writhe the first time he does it. He does it again, each time fingers dipping slightly lower.

You find yourself grinding down more on his leg even when he applies no pressure, and you can feel him smiling against your neck. So of course he graduates at that point, to actually running one hand over the front of your pants. The other one continues scratching up and down your side, harder when you groan and flex against his chest and palms. 

An angry noise finds its way out of your throat, a chittering growl that gets lost in the moan he makes in your ear. The hand on the front of your pants moves with purpose, and you feel the pressure of his fingers pushing in from beneath, aiming directly for your nook. You writhe again, grinding down on the hand. 

He’s breathing a little more heavily, and you relish a little in him losing his cool even though you can’t see it. Your hands clench in his hair, tight, when he pulls up with the fingers of his hand, tortuously dragging against the dampness you can already feel seeping through the fabric on your lower half. 

Dave thrusts into your hip, grunts softly like he didn’t mean to but couldn’t help himself. He stills the left hand on your chest, over your sternum. He holds you against him and slides the other hand into your pants this time. He strokes over the bulge. He goes back down to your dripping nook to do the same thing he was doing before. He pushes with the two middle fingers of his right hand. It’s still outside the boxers and you find yourself whining for more than that, making small aborted movements.

The ministrations pause, and he’s panting into your neck, and you’ve thrown your head back on his shoulder. Like you can’t stop, you swivel your hips down, onto his thigh and hand, rolling.

“Fuck, we need a towel. Couch… gonna be ruined. Like my old sheets.”

You can’t really say much, just heave your chest and nod a little. You have to catch your breath before you can reply. “Second shelf in the bathroom, hnnhh, should be fine.”

He has to move you in order to stand up, awkwardly manhandling you with your shaky legs until you’re on the couch sitting properly. Dave almost scampers to the en-suite bathroom, and you get more irritated by his absence the longer he’s gone. Jack Sparrow is doing something rude, drunkenly on the screen when you glance over. Fucking mocking you.

You think about the towels and their use and your nook clenches angrily. “DAVE.”

When he comes back, he’s shirtless and two towels are draped over his left arm. A groan leaves your mouth before you can curtail yourself, and he laughs and holds up his right hand. “I’m coming, I’m coming, but… what is this?” 

There’s something small and shiny in the hand, with something attached to it by a long cord. 

Dave sets it on the table, and your breathing gets a little fast again and your bulge twitches in your now too-tight pants. Dave motions for you to roll a bit to the side so he can lay some towels under you on the couch, carefully tucking corners into a few choice places. 

You’re kind of stupidly staring at the bullet vibrator he brought out. He knows what it is. It’s waterproof, great, uh… in the bath. Dave moves up your body to put his mouth against yours, hot clean breath filtering into your mouth when he speaks. “Can I use it on you?” he asks.

“Okay.” You say too fast. He would be laughing, you think, if he wasn’t moaning instead, apparently at the thought of using a vibrator on you.

There’s a look in Dave’s eyes, that same intent from before, when his hands go to your pants and start peeling them from your lower body. 

“So uh,” you try.

“Hmm?” Dave asks.

“You um, that time. You made a promise I think. About, um. Your name.”

Something in his eyes flickers with recognition, and he smirks. “Oh yeah.”

“You should make good on it,” you blurt with the most confidence you can muster in this situation. You at his mercy and your pants now on the floor with your soaked boxers, bulge gently thrashing against your lower stomach. 

He wastes no time sliding his hands hotly back up the outsides of your legs and using your knees as leverage to get you to the edge of the couch. 

_Oh good._

_He wants to devour you._

He wastes no time dropping down between the coffee table and the front of the sofa, and shoving his face between your thighs.

Now, there’s a little ceremony, with how he kisses first your thighs on both sides, and then the crease of your hip, and then the base of your bulge, which makes you emit this needy sound you’ve maybe made twice before. His palm flattens over your bulge, which then wraps around his fingers, and he’s hooking your thighs over his shoulders at the same time he’s licking a stripe up the crevasse of your wettest point.

Your head flips back and you have to try hard not to rip out his hair when he _makes good_ and starts to thoroughly eat you out. Tongue alternating between thrusting into your nook and licking sweet diagonals across the folds. You had no idea the lips of your nook were so sensitive. His tongue goes far enough in that it feels almost like a bulge inside of you, and you can feel yourself clenching down on him. 

He hums, you moan loudly, gasping breaths. You wish you had something for your mouth to do. For whatever fucking reason, your tongue tries to loll out a tiny bit and it’s honestly the single most embarrassing thing you’ve done during sex. Or… kind of sex.

He makes a little sound like he’s thinking about something before he presses two fingers in easily, spreading the opening so he can shove his tongue in deeper. 

Though… you feel… something… else? You were so distracted. 

You know what it is seconds later. You know when the vibrations start deep within you, a gentle hum to accompany his mouth on you. He kisses your nook a few times and asks, “That feel okay?”

You squeak a bit before you can talk, whirring clicks trying to seep out between English words before you can respond. “Hmmmmm yeah. Great. Greater than greaaaAAAH!” He turned up the vibrator three settings in a row. It has nine, so it’s not too high yet. But it’s vibrating right next to your seedflap. Fucking… Dave. He knows about that. He knows.

He takes your words dissolving into moans as a cue to not turn it up much higher and put his mouth on you again. Why the fuck did you give him permission for this. Why the fuck. You’re having a beautiful moment of lovely fucking clarity.

After the initial surprise, you can manage some softer sounds amid the deeper, throaty ones and the clicks. 

“Fuck you, Dave.”

He hums happily and starts eating you out again. You’re practically humping his face at this point, and he even shifts a little so you can grind down on his chin and lips and tongue and nose. 

After what feels like hours of this, with your claws now gripping the towels under you so as not to lose control and hurt Dave at all, you feel him turn up the vibe again. Just two this time. You growl at him half-heartedly. Thankfully he’s not trying to make you talk this time. 

However, he IS holding you down. He giggles and says something about how funny the vibrations feel on his tongue.

“Fuuuck you DaAAVE!” 

He turned up the vibrator again. 

You can feel yourself getting close, with a telltale continuous rolling of your hips and twitching. Quickened clenching.

You have to pull Dave’s head off your crotch. 

“I’m close, fucking stop.”

Dave’s face is covered from the bridge of his nose down in translucent pink genetic fluid. “Seriously man? I said forever, I meant it. It’s only been like ten minutes.” You can’t stop twitching from the still-humming internal stimulation, and every exhale you make is a throaty moan.

Your baser instincts want him in you, your forefront brain wants him to shut up. They compromise and you use both hands to pull him back down so you can grind up into his face.

Dave grunts, maybe chokes a little, but apparently finds your little angry outburst incredibly hot and groans into you as well. 

He renews his vigor, apparently, and thrusts into you with the couple of fingers spreading your lips, and that’s it for you. Keening, clamping down with your thighs on the sides of his head, you can feel yourself rippling on the inside and the electricity in your spine release as genetic fluid pours out of you, down his face and chin, onto the towels.

He’s making this kind of satisfied hum as you watch him swallow a couple of mouthfuls of the stuff. You’re so glad you both went and got tested right after your first attempt months ago. Because if you didn’t want his dick in you before, you certainly want it now. 

Of course, now that you’re essentially a wet piece of pasta on the sofa, panting deeply through a sore throat, the vibrator feels like awfully too much inside you. Thankfully Dave turns it off and pulls it out without needing prompting with a wet and kind of gross _shlorp_. 

You hope dimly that he wipes it on something before you hear him put it back on the coffee table. You, the noodle you are now, flop over sideways a little on the cushions. Your head lands on the pillow. 

Dave moves to crouch over you on the couch, murmuring in your ear how sexy you are and that was, how he’s definitely gotta do it again soon. He kisses the corner of your mouth, and makes a request that makes you wish you hadn’t come so soon. You say yes, oh yes.

And so Dave flat-out moans his thanks and moves you supine, holds your legs together over his right shoulder. Carefully reaches to pull his pants down just enough so that his human bulge is standing tall and fucking rock solid, almost on his hip. Alien genitalia is so weird. 

Dave thrusts into the tight space between your thighs almost without warning. His dick rubs against your oversensitive and still slick nook and inner legs, making you moan with him. Oh yeah, this will work.

You’re suddenly in the game again, as he bends forward a bit to brace on his left arm to your right. Claws reaching out, you grip one of your hands in the towel and the other around his bicep as he slides through the slick tunnel without actually fucking into your nook. 

It feels surprisingly good as he bends your legs almost double and continues, kissing the back of whichever knee he can reach. 

Who fucking cares about right and left. You don’t know if trolls can come twice but if the subdued moans coming from your own throat are any indication, you think you might find out.

Your thighs are shivering, you want to part them and put him between them for that thrusting that’s making his breath heavy and his mouth hang open. He stutters, and has to hold your knees to his shoulder with his spare arm to keep you from separating them anymore. 

Your bulge finds his hard human one, wraps around the part of it that’s closest, moving through the tunnel of your legs, and your entire body spasms as the stimulation doubles. You can feel Dave’s thrusts speeding up, and his groans choking, and he briefly changes angle to dig more against the folds of your nook. 

You come violently, full body upgrading from shaking to convulsing from where he’s firmly holding your knees and down to your head, where your ears ring. Dave’s sweatpants are fucking ruined. But he follows very soon after that, white striping on your chest and now completely flaccid bulge, which starts to retract into your pelvis.

Mmmm.

_Hmmmmmmmm._

That felt good.

All your tension is just…. A myth. A fucking myth. 

Fucking legend by now.

You're purring and humming baritone notes in your chest. 

Dave is very obviously trying not to collapse on top of you as he lays your shaking legs down, lets them fall back on either side of him. He fails. You laugh.

“Well you look incredibly fuckin’ happy right now. Y’okay? S’good?” Dave asks from where he’s propped himself up on his elbows.

“Being fucked like that felt so good for absolutely no reason. An expert. You’re a fucking expert, Dave.” Your arms find a place to rest over the top of the couch arm behind you. Your torso stretches.

Dave turns into a beet again. Whatever. You’re starting to think he gets off on praise. The lazy grin on your face is breaking the goddamn sound barrier.

“You can’t just say shit like that, man.”

“I just did, asshole. Take it.”

Dave has some small amount of foresight into the next ten minutes and makes an attempt to wipe off some of the slick and cum with the loose end of one of the cleaner towels.

You both can get up to shower in like, twenty minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if you haven't yet you should go read the original work this stems from :) I hope whoever is reading this, y'all have a wonderful thanksgiving and weekend.
> 
>  
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________
> 
> [Here](http://royalrastafariannaynays.tumblr.com/) is a link to my blog if you want to see updates or talk to me about my fics!


End file.
